


raise a glass to freedom

by sqidervbck



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Fluff, Gen, Insane Wilbur Soot, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), SHIPPERS DNI, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit needs a hug, Torture, Villain Wilbur Soot, also tommy swears duh, basically wilburs going insane and dream is like lets help this child, dont ship minors thats weirdchamp, dream is good in this okay, im shet at tags erfjhrfb, no beta we die like Tubbo at the festival, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqidervbck/pseuds/sqidervbck
Summary: “No!” Wilbur shouted. “Just— just stop, okay? I know what you’re up to. You and Dream thought you had the upper hand but… but you were wrong. I knew. And now I'm the one with the upperhand. I have the advantage. Because now I have you.”It was the last thing Tommy heard before he was being knocked out by a closed fist.But it made sense. Really, Tommy was fine. Everything was fine, and Wilbur was definitely fine.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 83
Kudos: 1021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Go to War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27384052) by [cookiebook322](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiebook322/pseuds/cookiebook322). 



> this is thoroughly inspired by cookiebook322's 'Go to War' if u cant tell. basically im a sucker for tommy angst.
> 
> ALSO this is about the role play characters, not the actually... real life people. then again, if the cc's are uncomfortable, i will obviously take it down. shippers dni.

It was almost sunrise when Tommy finally got back to L’Manburg, the bottoms of his feet aching despite the worn-in, iron heel combat boots which he’d recently crafted after the soles of the last pair broke. A single torch was held in his hand as he ran through the forest, slowing to a stop at the sight of familiar black and yellow walls. His armour was scratched all to hell from the multiple mobs he’d ran into while going for his midnight jog.

He came through the passage in the black walls easily, quiet as he crossed the grass and made his way over to the caravan. Tommy opened the door, careful in order to not make much noise. He didn’t want anyone waking up from his entrance.

Except he didn’t exactly have to worry about that, since someone was already awake.

The lights of the caravan flickered on, illuminating the walls and glittering against the windows. Tommy squinted against the sudden brightness, raising a hand to reduce the glare. When his eyes finally settled on the figure leaning against the doorway, their arms crossed and face stern, Tommy tensed.

“Wilbur?” he asked, voice choppy due to his run.

The man in question frowned, his jaw hardening as he looked over Tommy. Then, with glittering eyes that seemed a tad too  _ off _ for Tommy to be comfortable, Wilbur stepped away from the doorway.

“TommyInnit,” said Wilbur blankly, and Tommy struggled to interpret the man’s expression. “Would you like to explain yourself?”

“Erm—  _ what _ ?” Tommy asked, confused. He began pulling his armour off his shins and forearms, fiddling with the straps nervously. “I just… I went for a run. Clear my head.”

Wilbur’s eyebrows angled inwards. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

Tommy was confused. Why did Wilbur look so angry? What did he think he was doing?

It wasn’t too odd to see Wilbur angry nowadays. Tommy blames it on the war getting to his head, warping everything until he was so focused on his one goal. It made  _ sense _ . Tommy wanted the same thing, but— sometimes it felt as though Wilbur’s obsession stretched a bit too far.

Like the other day, when Wilbur told Fundy to call him sir. Which was—  _ weird _ , in so many different ways. Fundy was his  _ son _ , and suddenly Wilbur expects him to call him  _ sir _ ? Who the fuck did that?

He’d been getting snappy too, shouting at Tommy for every little mistake he made.

_ “God, why do you have to be so useless?” _

_ “You fuck everything up, Tommy!” _

_ “Just— just get out. GET OUT!” _

But it  _ made sense _ . Really, Tommy was fine. Everything was fine, and Wilbur was  _ definitely _ fine.

So, instead of playing dumb (which would definitely annoy Wilbur), Tommy just looked him straight in the eye. 

“Really, I just went for a run. These walls can get a bit restricting and I just… sometimes need a break. It’s nice at night too, and… I don’t know, but something about everything just being about  _ surviving _ takes my mind off… the war. It was good, really.”

It was probably the first time Tommy hadn’t been stupid, or hadn’t just blown up in angry chatter. It was reasonable, which honestly he was a bit proud of. 

But Wilbur didn’t seem to agree, if the downward pull of his lip was anything to go by. “You fucking  _ liar _ .”

“What?”

The older man stepped forward, making Tommy stumble back from where he was pulling off his helmet. 

“You  _ liar _ ! You weren’t going on a  _ run _ , who the fuck does that? And,” Wilbur paused, roughly pulling off Tommy’s iron chestplate so that it clattered to the floor. “What the fuck is this? You know that there’s no armour in L’Manburg.”

Tommy blinked. “I… I wasn’t in L’Manburg. I was going for a run and it was night— there were  _ mobs _ out! Of course I was wearing armour.”

An arm was suddenly coming towards him, a forearm pushing up against his neck so that he was slammed back against the wall. Tommy winced as his skull hit the caravan, his feet stumbling over his discarded armour.

“What are you—  _ Wilbs— _ ”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you  _ traitor _ !”

Tommy’s eyes blew wide, breath catching in his throat at his words. That  _ word _ .

Traitor.

_ Traitor _ .

“Wilbur… what are you talking about?” he asked, voice fragile and quiet.

But the man —  _ his older brother _ — just snarled. “I know what you’re up to, Tommy. You’re conspiring against us, against L’Manburg. You keep going off during the night and I know why!”

There was a pause of silence as Tommy struggled against the arm at his throat. “Why?”

“You’re helping  _ them _ .”

“Who?”

“Don’t play  _ dumb _ ,” Wilbur shouted, eyes flickering with blazing flames. “With Dream and— and the rest of the SMP. I  _ know _ . You’re a  _ traitor _ .”

“Wh— why would I  _ do that _ ? You know… it’s always been you and I, Big Man.  _ Always _ . And Tubbo. Us three. Why… why would I betray you?”

Wilbur faltered, but it didn’t take long for the blazing fire in his eyes to darken to black. “Because you only ever want to be on the winning side. You’re selfish and you’re arrogant and you’re narcissistic and you’ll  _ never _ let yourself be the loser. I know you— I saw you  _ grow up _ , Tommy. You’re trying to save your own skin by siding with Dream. And I already know, when I win, Tommy. When  _ I win _ … you’ll come running back. You’ll come running back when you realise that all along it was  _ me  _ who was going to win.”

Tommy didn’t know what to say. He was just… stunned. His own  _ brother  _ thought him a traitor. It didn’t even make sense and he wondered if Wilbur could even hear the bullshit he was spewing. 

“Wilbu—”

“No!” the man shouted. “Just— just  _ stop _ , okay? I  _ know _ what you’re up to. You and Dream thought you had the upper hand but… but you were  _ wrong _ . I knew. And now  _ I'm _ the one with the upperhand. I have the advantage. Because now I have  _ you _ .”

It was the last thing Tommy heard before he was being knocked out by a closed fist.

But it  _ made sense _ . Really, Tommy was fine. Everything was fine, and Wilbur was  _ definitely _ fine.

━━━━━━━━

The next day he woke up in a cold, stone room.

On the far side was an iron door, and to his right was a bucket which he somehow knew he was expected to piss and shit in. 

Ultimately, Tommy didn’t know how he’d gotten here.

He’d gone for a fucking  _ run _ , just like the last couple of nights. He was  _ fine _ . He was  _ good _ . And then Wilbur fucking Soot called him a traitor and threw him in a cell. But it  _ made sense _ . Really, it made complete sense. The war was just getting to Wilbur’s head. He was getting paranoid— it  _ made sense _ .

(Except there was a quiet voice at the back of his head that whispered thoughts that maybe Wilbur had passed a line of normality and sensibility.)

The first day in his cell, nothing happened.

Honestly, the worst part about it was how goddamn  _ bored _ he got. Tommy was the type of person to run and shout and cause a scene just because he  _ could _ . There was a bottomless pit of energy which continuously bubbled in his throat, just waiting to be released. Which, now that he was  _ stuck in a cell _ , he couldn’t do.

He felt restless. Irritated. Snappy. Bouncy.  _ Hungry _ .

On the second day, he was given a bottle of water. He didn’t see who had left him there, since it was there when he woke up. His dry throat basically  _ sung _ in pleasure at the feeling of cool water running down it. It settled the hunger slightly, too.

On the third day, Tubbo came to him.

It was a surprise, really, since he thought Wilbur would keep it a secret. At first he thought Tubbo was coming to set him free. But then the boy — his  _ best friend  _ — just offered him another bottle of water and tilted his head down.

“Wilbur told me the news,” Tubbo started.

Tommy didn’t know what to say. “You believe him.”

It wasn’t even a question at that point, and it didn’t really have to be since the look of betrayal on Tubbo’s face was enough to give it away.

“Tommy, how could you? After… after  _ everything _ we’ve been through together,” said Tubbo. He ran a hand through his brown hair, which looked dirty and greasy but nowhere near as bad as Tommy’s.

“I’m not a traitor, Tubbo! Big T, my man. You have to trust me,” said Tommy, walking up to the gap in the door. “Wilbur’s gone— gone paranoid. He’s thinking things up. Please, you…”

Tubbo simply shook his head. “Tommy, I didn’t want to believe it at first. I  _ didn’t _ . But… but he was right. You’ve been running out at night, acting… weird. Ever since Eret, you’ve changed. And I thought you were just shocked at the betrayal, but now… I think it was different.”

“Tubbo…” Tommy tried.

But his friend stepped back from the door, frowning at the floor. “No, Tommy. You… I trusted you. Like a brother. You  _ were _ my brother. But this… this was too far. I just… I can’t just forgive you, TommyInnit.”

And with that, Tubbo walked away. Tommy shouted out to him, tried to push at the door, but Tubbo never returned. (He never did again).

On the fourth day, everything took a turn for the worst.

Wilbur had apparently decided that now that they had one of “Dream’s crew”, it was a great opportunity to get information from him. And with how far off the edge Wilbur had gotten, it only made sense for him to resort to more violent methods.

When the old, wooden chair was dragged into the room, Tommy had first cowered against the wall. But then Wilbur had shoved him into the chair, chained him back, and he just fell into some weird dream-like state in which he wasn’t really in reality. He felt everything—  _ god, he felt everything _ . But he couldn’t hear Wilbur’s words or see his actions or talk in response. It wasn’t as if he would have any answers to the types of questions that Wilbur was asking.

The day had passed when he finally came to, crumbled against the corner of the room.

Metal stung his nose when he tried to breath in, but it was nothing in comparison to the sudden sting of a broken nose. Everything ached. His head felt like it was preparing to explode with pressure.

Tommy didn’t even want to check his injuries. He didn’t think he was ready to look at them. He knew there was blood, if the red-stained stone floor was anything to go by, and he knew everything hurt. That was already too much for him.

It was only at day five that they actually gave him something to eat. Fundy was the one who had offered a loaf of bread through the gaps of the door. The hybrid winced at the sight of Tommy’s injuries, and threw the bread to the floor when he realised Tommy wasn’t capable of getting up and grabbing it himself.

Two days later, Wilbur came back. This time he had an arrow with him. It was only when Wilbur was carving a smile into Tommy’s cheeks (a mockery of Dream’s own mask) that the younger boy realised what arrow it was exactly. 

It was his arrow. Tommy’s arrow. The first one he’d ever hunted with. He remembered Techno teaching him how to use a bow and arrow, teaching him how to aim. How they’d decided to go hunting for food. How he’d shot down his first sheep. 

Tommy had been so happy, and Techno had looked so proud. He remembered a large hand ruffling his hair. After they’d dragged the sheep back to their base, Tommy had scribbled onto the arrow in red texta  _ “Tommy the hunter” _ . Techno had laughed in his low monotone, and Phil had congratulated him. And Wilbur… Wilbur had grabbed the arrow and placed it in a chest, promising to keep it safe so that they could look at it again in years to come.

Tommy hadn’t seen it again many times. 

But now, staring down at the half-smudged texta which kind of resembled  _ “Tomm… th… nter” _ , he couldn’t help but just want to  _ cry _ .

After that day, Wilbur only came back twice again. Fundy only came down occasionally to give him some food. Tubbo never visited.

Tommy guessed something was being planned after the fifth day of no visits. And he found himself to be right when suddenly he was being dragged out of his cell, bleeding halfway to hell, and out onto the grass of L’Manburg. The sun was so bright that Tommy had to close his eyes, but he swore he could see the silhouettes of four figures standing up on the walls, their swords dark against the white backboard of the sun’s light.

He really  _ didn’t  _ know what was going on. 

Everything hurt. Like—  _ everything _ . He was pretty sure that Wilbur had just about carved up every part of his skin he could reach. His eyes stung from the sudden light after so long of being underground, and his nose was overwhelmed with the exposure to pollen and such a wide array of smells.

And then, once his eyes had just about almost adjusted, someone spoke up.

“Dream!”

That was Wilbur. Tommy was familiar enough by now.

“We have something of yours!”

Tommy didn’t even have the energy to fight when he was suddenly yanked up by his hair, forced to kneel towards the sun. His scalp burned and his eyes stung and  _ god, just be done with it _ .

He barely registered the quiet stutter of a response.

“Wh… is that  _ Tommy _ ?” asked Sapnap.

Silence. Then Wilbur’s god awful laugh. It wasn’t the same as it used to be, not by a long shot, and Tommy shivered in disgust every time he heard it.

“We know what you were planning, Dream. It was a good idea, really, snatching up someone I trusted with my  _ life _ . But you’re not gonna put another Eret on us. This time, we caught the traitor. And he paid the price.”

There was a thud as Dream hopped off the wall, landing effortlessly in a way that Tommy knew would absolutely  _ kill _ your heels. 

“Wilbur… what did you do?” Dream asked, and for once it wasn’t angry or violent or cold. It was… confused. Worried. Concerned.  _ Scared _ .

Wilbur laughed, and Tommy wanted to throw up. “I made him  _ pay the price _ of betraying me.”

“Wilbur… Tommy was never on our side,” George said, and Tommy hadn’t even realised that he’d jumped off the wall too. “He was always loyal to you. What did you… what did you  _ do _ to him?”

Tommy didn’t know what was going on, but he was thankful that for  _ once _ , somebody believed him. They knew where his loyalties lied. Or… lay. Past tense.

“Stop fucking  _ lying _ !” Wilbur screamed, and Tommy flinched. He was suddenly shoved forward, stumbling into surprisingly warm arms and a cold chestplate. “I  _ know _ ! You’re not  _ tricking _ me anymore!”

“Tommy…” was whispered, and it was only then that Tommy realised it was Dream who had caught him. That stupid smiley face mask stared him down, and Tommy wanted to cry all over again. Why did Dream say that so…  _ warmly _ ? Like he cared? “What happened to you…”

Tommy fought to pull his lips into a mocking smile. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

And then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got sad writing the end ): but i hope you enjoy!
> 
> just a reminder, there will be absolutely no shipping in this story. i know some of the ccs have stated they are okay with it, but others have not. especially when it comes to tommy and tubbo, please do not ship them with anyone.

When Tommy finally woke up again, he was warm.

For a moment he thought Wilbur must have lit a fire in his cell or something, but after shuffling, he froze at the feeling of soft fabric against his cheek. His breath caught in his throat as he blinked his eyes open, almost flinching at the sight of bright blue sheets. Tommy stretched out a hand, sinking his fingers into the soft duvet. 

And it felt  _ odd _ to not wake up to cold, blood stained stone. But the encompassing hug of warm bed sheets was beyond welcomed, and Tommy found himself sinking further into the mattress until he thought it may swallow him whole.

But then he remembered—  _ what the fuck was he doing here? _

He started upwards, immediately crying out from the stab of pain in his abdomen and arm which he was leaning on. Everything burned, as if he had fallen into a lava lake in the Nether. His bones shook with every breath, his ribcage stuttering on the  _ inhale, exhale, in, out _ .

But  _ fuck it _ , because Tommy didn’t know where the fuck he was or what the fuck happened and he wasn’t just going to lounge around.

He pushed himself up, fighting back more cries of pain, and slid out of the bed. His wrist was probably broken so he used his other hand instead to push himself into a standing position. And… yeah, his ankle was fucked too.

Tommy tried to ignore all the pain and instead shuffled his way over to the door. Now that his eyes weren’t burning white from sudden shock, he could actually see where he was. It seemed to be some wooden cottage, with oak plank walls and exposed log beams on the ceiling. There was a large bookcase on one wall, as well as a crafting table and a few chests. It looked… normal.

Trying to ignore the odd sense of warmth which had stuck to Tommy ever since waking up in the bright blue bed, he shuffled over to the oak door and pushed it open. 

It led to a corridor, which had a few doors on either side. At the end of the hall was a staircase, which Tommy stared at for a long moment before sighing and starting the journey down.

His ankle begged for rest, but Tommy persevered his way down until he finally slumped against the bottom post of the staircase. Breathing was difficult at that point, but so was everything.

“Fuck this,” he whispered into the empty house.

Sunlight stretched it’s white fingers through clear window panes, tickling Tommy’s legs as he walked around what seemed to be a living room. There was a couch and a fireplace and a few soft-looking chairs. He could even see flower beds through the windows, which once again seemed odd to Tommy.

The kitchen was close to the living room, and Tommy almost yelled in excitement at the sight of food.  _ God,  _ he was so fucking hungry. A carrot had never tasted so good before. He ignored the bread (since that sent Tommy through  _ way _ too many dark memories) and instead grabbed at the sliced ham and berries. 

There was a noise from outside, which had him turning his head to the kitchen window. When he squinted against the sun, Tommy could see someone sitting on a log, sharpening their diamond axe. It glittered and shimmered, which made Tommy think it was probably enchanted.

He almost screamed when the figure turned slightly to show off their white goggles which were settled comfortably on fluffy brown hair. Because— that was  _ George _ .

What the fuck, what the fuck,  _ what the fuck _ ?

Tommy scampered away from the kitchen, leaving the food on the counter as he hurried towards one of the chests. He pulled them open, scowling at the sight of cobblestone and wood planks. He checked the next one, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of just… lots of obsidian? And then  _ finally _ , in the last one was weapons. He grabbed the first axe he could find and clutched it as tightly as he could.

He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing in George’s house, but he was  _ definitely _ not going to end up being his prisoner. He wouldn’t give the Dream Team any of Wilbur’s plans, he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t…

_ What the fuck was he even doing here _ ?

And then he remembered.

Wilbur. Tubbo. That  _ stupid cell _ . L’Manburg. Dream.  _ Dream. _

_ ( “Wilbur… what did you do?”  _

_ “I made him pay the price of betraying me.” ) _

Oh god. Oh  _ god _ . Tommy was absolutely fucked. (And he tried to ignore the memory of Dream’s warm arms catching him). 

“Tommy?”

The boy in question jumped, crying out as his ankle just  _ gave up _ on him. He fell to the floor, axe clattering against wood floorboards. And  _ fuck _ , everything hurt so bad. His ribcage ached as he slammed down.

“Tom—  _ oh my god _ ! What the fuck are you doing?”

And… was that Sapnap?

When Tommy looked up, he was confronted with big, dark, grey-blue eyes and black hair and that  _ fucking bandana _ . Sapnap looked… worried? Tommy didn’t know.

But suddenly there were hands on him, pulling him up from the floor and to the couch. Footsteps rushed away, before they returned again. Subpoena’s face appeared again, and Tommy groaned.

“Tommy,  _ stay still _ , for fuck’s sake! You’re injured,” said Sapnap, pushing Tommy’s shoulder back down. “I’m getting George, he’s better with this healing shit.”

Tommy didn’t want to see  _ George _ . In fact, he didn’t want to see  _ anyone _ , but everything hurt too bad to move.

It was only a moment before the footsteps were coming back, this time with a second pair in tow. And then there were warm brown eyes in Tommy’s vision, and white goggles and—

“Tommy, what the hell?”

And… yeah, that was George. The familiar English accent (which was way more comforting than those fucking  _ Americans _ ).

“I found him by the chests, but I don’t know how he got down here,” Sapnap explained. “I mean, his ankle is fucked, so how is he even  _ moving _ ?”

George sighed. “Get a regen potion. And a healing one.”

Sapnap rushed off to get the potions and Tommy groaned when George pressed a finger into the reddening skin around his ankle. 

“Well you wouldn’t be in this position if you had just stayed in bed,” George tutted, heading off to the kitchen before returning with an ice pack. 

“Sorry for freaking out a bit after waking up in a strange person’s bed,” Tommy mumbled. “In my  _ enemy’s _ bed, as a matter of fact.”

“Enemy?”

Tommy bit down on his lip. “Yes, George. Enemy. Or have you forgotten the past month?”

There was a moment of silence.

“If we’re your enemy then… what’s Wilbur?” The question was soft and quiet and everything George  _ shouldn’t _ be, because that fucker had tried to kill him  _ multiple _ times.

And, really, Tommy didn’t know how to answer that question. What  _ was _ Wilbur? 

“My brother. Well… he was.”

“And now?”

Tommy’s head hurt too much when he tried to think about it. “I don’t know.”

“Tommy—”

“Just stop it, okay?” the sixteen year old groaned out. “I’m— fuck, I don’t know what’s happening and I’m not gonna have a heart to heart about my sibling-issues with  _ you _ .”

George nodded, and waited for Sapnap to return with the potions. By the time the borderline-pyromaniac returned, the pain in Tommy’s ankle had eased slightly. He hated having to be  _ babied _ by these fucking psychopaths, but he let them carefully pour the two potions down his throat.

The potion of regeneration made everything tingle and his head go fuzzy for a moment, before his eyes were cleared of their hazy glare. The healing potion had a similar effect, although a sense of coolness washed over his skin in a way that was almost refreshing.

“You got blood on the couch,” Sapnap commented, making Tommy look down quickly.

He was startled to see a large splash of red stretching across his L’Manburg uniform. It wrapped around his side, staining the fabric of the couch as well. Tommy lifted a shaky hand to lift the hem of his uniform, choking at the sight of a large, angry wound on his stomach.

It was slightly to the right of his belly button and looked like a large sword wound of sorts. It wasn’t overly long, however it went at least three inches deep. Tommy hadn’t checked any of his wounds (mainly being afraid of what he would see) and suddenly the reality of Wilbur’s torture settled in.

“Oh god,” he stuttered out.

George winced. “The stitches must have broken. Sorry, we didn’t want to invade your privacy but you were bleeding out and—”

“It’s fine. It’s fine.”

He watched as the healing potion slowly worked it’s magic; the ache in his ankle and wrist fading, the edges of his stomach wound closing inwards, the stinging cuts on his skin easing and the awful burning in his head reducing. He didn’t feel perfect, but he didn’t feel on the verge of death anymore. So that was good.

“Wh- what happened after I passed out?” Tommy asked, eyes slowly lifting to George and Sapnap.

The pair shared a look before Sapnap sighed. “Well, Wilbur kind of went on a rant. He was… spewing some crazy shit about how apparently you were Eret number two. Then he kind of, erm— claimed to disown you? Exile you? I’m not too sure, but we brought you back since there was no way we were leaving you with that psychopath.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

George blinked. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you… help me?”

“You’re just a kid, Tommy—”

“I  _ am not _ —”

“You are!” Sapnap insisted. “No matter how much you deny it, you’re a sixteen year old fighting in a  _ war _ . You just got tortured by your so-called brother. Do you even  _ hear _ how fucked up that is?”

“He’s just paranoid…”

“That’s not paranoia, Tommy, that’s  _ insanity _ .”

And that was a difficult pill to swallow. Wilblur, insane? His older brother, who used to make up songs by the campfire while Techno and Tommy fought with their marshmallow sticks, gone crazy? His older brother, who helped him decorate his bedroom in reds and whites. Who saved Tommy from a Drowned that one time in the river by their house. Who taught him how to ride a horse properly. It just… Tommy didn’t want to believe it.

Before he could get emotional about it, Tommy pushed himself up. “Can I go back upstairs to rest? I don’t really want to do this right now.”

George nodded, helping him to his feet. “Would you like a shower beforehand? Maybe give you something more comfortable to wear?”

Tommy didn’t really want the Dream Team’s pity charity, but he was tired and in pain and dirty and  _ god _ , a shower sounded really nice.

Sapnap helped him up the staircase as George ran off to find a towel and clothes. Tommy was shown to a large bathroom and provided with the supplies before George and Sapnap left (finally).

Tommy breathed out, turning on the shower and stripping the stupid L’Manburg uniform off. The thick fabric stuck awkwardly with blood, and he was thankful to finally be free of it. 

When he finally found the courage to look in the mirror, he felt like throwing up. The first thing he saw was that grim, thin, white line which trailed from each corner of his mouth to his cheekbones. That fucking  _ smile _ . Dream’s smile.

Secondly, along the left side of his (awfully prominent) ribcage, a word had been carved into his skin. Tommy didn’t even remember that ever happening. But when he looked closer, he could see the T and the R and the A and the I and the T and the O and the R.  _ Traitor _ .

He would expect nothing less.

His back was littered with whip marks, and his front was a mess of purple, blues and sickly greens. The deep wound in his stomach looked slightly better than when he first saw it, but it still looked angry and red. There was a large burn on his right bicep, which Tommy honestly didn’t remember getting (which was probably for the better). Along his thigh was a long, deep knife wound as well. And then there was the nick through his eyebrow, the broken wrist and fucked up ankle. 

Fuck, he was a mess.

Tommy ignored the strong instinct to throw up and instead stepped under the showering water, flinching first as droplets hit against sensitive skin. It had turned warm by that point, offering a small amount of comfort to the traumatised boy.

Washing his hair and body felt like both a blessing and a curse. While he was satisfied at finally feeling  _ clean _ , the soap made his skin sting harshly.

After an abnormally long shower (a lot of it just being Tommy leaning his head against the cool tile wall), he carefully dried off. George had put the clothes on the bench, and Tommy was happy to see a loose pair of grey sweatpants and a red shirt.

Exhaustion suddenly hit him as he came back to his new “bedroom”, and he easily flopped down onto the bed. His blonde tufts ruffled up against the pillow, his cheek smushing awkwardly into soft fabric.

Tommy sighed, letting himself relax as sleep slipped through the cracks of his eyelids.

_ He was running through a field of vibrant flowers, fingers reaching down to tickle the soft petals as he laughed and squealed. Tommy was seven, and the wooden practice sword in his hand felt so heavy that he tilted sideways with it. _

_ “You’ll have to run faster than that, little lion!” Phil called from behind him, hand keeping his bucket hat in place while he ran after the small boy. _

_ Tommy squealed loudly, circling a tree as Phil gasped, as if surprised by this course of action. Considering it had already happened five times, he probably wasn’t. _

_ He kept running through the long grass which tickled his bandaged kneecaps and elbows. For a seven year old, he was pretty short. But he knew one day he’d grow up to be super tall! Even taller than Techno. _

_ And suddenly, he was knocked off his feet, a figure grabbing him around the waist to pull him to the floor. Tommy screamed in surprise, scared at first, before he was meeting familiar dark grey eyes and pale pink hair.  _

_ Technoblade without the pig skull mask wasn’t very scary. The big floppy ears made it kind of hard, as did the soft pink hair which was falling out of the messy braid Tommy had made earlier. The bright grin (even with the slight smirk to it) was the thing that made it most difficult to be scared of Techno. _

_ Tommy giggled, trying to push his older brother off of him, but the hybrid started tickling and Tommy was off light a rocketship.  _

_ “No, no, no— kahhhh.. W-wait I— ahhh!” Tommy cried through laughter, trying to push away the hands tickling his ribs. _

_ When Techno finally stopped, Tommy pouted. “That wasn’t fair, you tackled me.” _

_ The eldest brother simply grinned, shrugging. “You never said that was against the rules.” _

_ Tommy frowned harder, crossing his arms when he sat up. “But you weren’t supposed to.” _

_ “Things don’t always go to plan when you’re in battle,” said Techno, tapping the wooden sword by Tommy’s leg in a reminder. Suddenly, his smirk softened. “Here.” _

_ The hybrid bent down, picking up a small yellow flower off the ground and passing it over to Tommy who stared wearily. _

_ “It’s a dandelion,” Techno informed. “Because you’re a little lion.” _

_ Tommy hid his happy smile behind a snarl.  _

_ “I’m not little!” he cried out, chasing after Techno when the hybrid ran off laughing. _

_ He tucked the dandelion in his pocket, making a mental note to put it in his ender chest when he got back home. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theres a lot of dialogue in here, but dream is starting to look less like an enemy and more like... a good guy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have so many ideas for character designs for these guys, dont even get me started. i dont know how to incorporate it into the story without blatantly just describing their attire, and it changes in battle as well. anyway, a girl can dream. i hope u enjoy!
> 
> ALSO, once again, THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO SHIPPING IN THIS! this story is about their rp characters, not the actual cc's.
> 
> um this story isnt ageing too well with manipulative dream, but we'll ignore canon for the time being and pretend they have a chance of being brothers okay, thanks :)

The next morning, Tommy got up before the morning light reached his window so that he could sit outside to watch the sunrise. It wasn’t quite the same as watching the sunset, but somehow the paler, more blue view filled Tommy with a different satisfaction than its opposite. More fresh. More new.

He had climbed a tree while it was still dark, reaching the highest branch that could hold him up just before the sun broke over the horizon. The view wasn’t clear, with the forest of oak trees in the way, but it was still pretty.

The sunset reminded him of Tubbo. And thinking about Tubbo made him sad. His best friend, who’d been through thick and thin with him, who’d turned away from him when Tommy needed him most. It still didn’t make sense.

There was a ruffle of branches as someone began climbing Tommy’s tree, and he didn’t notice who it was until a lime green filled his peripheral. He didn’t really want to talk to Dream, but he supposed he didn’t have much of a say in it.

“Here to make sure I don’t run away?” he asked after a moment.

He turned slightly to face Dream, instincts screaming at him to  _ run _ at the sight of that stupid smiley face mask. Dream had removed all his armour, leaving him in his typical green hoodie and black cargo pants. The hood was down, exposing a mop of floppy, dirty blonde hair which was only slightly darker than Tommy’s. His holsters remained strapped around his thighs, as did the fingerless gloves. When Tommy looked closer, he could see the black fabric of Dream’s thin, skin tight turtleneck underneath.

The mask tilted slightly at Tommy’s words. 

“Of course not. You can leave whenever you want, if that will make you happy and keep you safe,” the older man replied.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So if I were to just… leave…”

Dream turned to fully look at Tommy. “We would let you. But we’d have to make sure you didn’t go back to Wilbur, and that he didn’t capture you again.”

“You mean I could just run away?”

“Would you want to?”

Tommy paused at the question, considering what to reply with.  _ Did _ he want to? It sounded nice. Being free, being self-reliant. But it sounded lonely, and one thing that Tommy could never deal with was loneliness.

“Back when… back when this all started,” Tommy began, looking back to the rising sun, “Tubbo and I talked about running away. We thought that maybe… we’d have a better life away from all of this. I guess we were right, but— I don’t think I could do it without him.”

Dream considered the answer for a moment.

“Well… staying here may not be complete freedom, but— maybe we could help keep you out of this war,” said Dream.

Tommy sighed, mulling it over. It did sound nice, when he really thought about it. But he had a family. He had Tubbo and Techno and Phil and— Wilbur. 

“Why…  _ am _ I here, Dream?”

“Because you needed help.”

“I’m your enemy.”

“You were never my enemy, Tommy. Wilbur is… Wilbur is technically my enemy, but I also want to help him.”

“What?”

Dream sighed, kicking his feet back and forth childishly. “Wilbur isn’t acting like normal anymore. I noticed it a while ago, which was why I initially never wanted L’Manburg to gain independence. He was… power hungry. I could see it in his eyes, I’ve seen it in the mirror before. He… manipulated you all into thinking he was fighting for you, for freedom, for L’Manburg. But… he’s only just doing this for himself. He started that stupid caravan for his own financial gain. It was always about him.”

Tommy turned to the older man with wide eyes, processing his words. It just didn’t  _ add up _ . Wilbur said it was them against the world, that it started with them and that it would end with them. Had that all been a lie? Was his older brother really just being… selfish? 

“But… I was his right hand man,” Tommy tried, his voice cracking pitifully.

Leaves rustled as Dream suddenly turned, hand reaching out to tap the light, curved scars which curved up Tommy’s cheeks.

“Does  _ this _ mean right hand man to you?” he asked.

Next he pointed to Tommy’s stomach. “Or that?” The burn on his right bicep. “Or that one?” The mess of scars across his back. “Or those?” His thigh. His rib. “That?”

Dream then sighed loudly, slumping back down. The mask looked away for a moment, before returning to Tommy. “Friends don’t do that, Tommy.  _ Brothers _ don’t do that. I wouldn’t do that to  _ anybody _ , let alone a child. Let alone my own little brother!”

Tommy flinched back when Dream’s voice raised, grabbing the nearest branch for support. Dream settled back when he realised he had gotten out of hand. 

“Why do you even care?” Tommy whispered, still stuck on the same question.

Wilbur didn’t care, Tubbo didn’t care, Fundy… kind of cared. Techno  _ left _ him. Phil hadn’t returned any of his letters for months.

“I’ve always cared about you, Tommy,” Dream confessed, shoulders slumping. He then chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “I used to find it so fucking annoying, because you were this little shit who caused chaos everywhere you went, with Tubbo by your side. But… I don’t know, you reminded me of my sister, I guess. She was always funny in that rude sort of way. So I… I started to care. For you  _ and _ Tubbo.

“And then all of this bullshit started and Wilbur was manipulating you into some… little  _ soldiers _ for his stupid fucking war and—” Dream sighed, clearly getting angry. “This was the final straw. You may call it paranoia but… I know what power does to a man, Tommy. And Wilbur is… he’s at the stage where it begins to harm those around him, those who used to matter to him. That’s a very dangerous stage to get to. I needed to pull you out before it got any worse.”

Tommy blinked, not really knowing what to say. 

“What’s going to happen to Wilbur, Dream? When this is all over?” Tommy asked.

Dream considered the question for a moment, his combat boots tapping their diamond heel plates against the branch beneath him. “We’ll have to… help him go back to normal. Maybe send him off to Philza for a bit, get him to see a therapist. I don’t want this to end with him dead, Tommy.”

Tommy didn’t know why, but his eyes watered at that.

Despite everything, Dream ( _ his enemy _ ) was still going to try to save Wilbur. No matter the numerous things Wil had done, the mess he’d caused… Dream still wanted to help.

Tommy didn’t know how he had never seen this side of Dream before. This… almost brotherly side. He’d said he had a sister, so maybe he just mentally adopted every child he met as his younger sibling.

He found it kind of funny, but also sad.

Tommy didn’t have the best brothers.

Wilbur, who’d just fucking tortured him. And Techno, who he hadn’t seen in months. He loved them both, but he knew they didn’t love him the same way. They used to be the whole of Tommy’s world. He used to look up to Techno like he’d hung the moon and stars. He used to cling onto Wilbur like he’d disappear if he’d let go.

He  _ loved _ them, and they gave nothing in return.

And then there was life before Phil and Wilbur and Techno. Life alone, lost in the world with nowhere to go.

Phil had first come across him when the man had fallen into one of Tommy’s traps that he’d set to capture pigs and cows, since he wasn’t old enough to kill them just by himself. He’d apologised profusely at the time, but had gotten mad at Phil for making him have to reset the trap.

Phil had offered to help, and together they had replaced the net under piles of leaves and restrung the rope.

After all of it, Phil had finally asked what the hell this six-year-old was doing out in the forest all by himself, setting traps to get food. Tommy had brushed over his experiences of being left behind by his family and having to live in the wilderness by himself.

And that was how Tommy ended up being adopted by the winged man.

“Tommy?” Dream asked, snapping the younger blonde out of his thoughts.

His head snapped towards the green-clad man. “Yeah?”

The mask tilted in question. “You okay?”

“Mhm. Just peachy, Big D.”

An unexpected chuckle filtered through the white, porcelain mask. It was light and bright and Tommy honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Dream laugh like that. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve called me that, y’know,” Dream commented.

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t think it would be very intimidating if I were to call you Big D in battle.”

“WIlbur did yell  _ ‘suck it, green boy’ _ , so I don’t think it’s much worse.”

A long, loud laugh fell from the younger boy’s lips. It hurt his ribs and made his back ache, but he really didn’t care. “Yeah, that was funny.”

By now, the sun had risen to a point where it was fully visible, the horizon bleeding white into green and pale blue. Tommy had to squint against it, eyebrows furrowing with the action.

A foot suddenly tapped into Tommy’s, making him turn to the man beside him.

“You wanna head in? We’re all pretty shit at cooking, but Eret’s the best out of all of us,” said Dream with a nonchalant shrug. 

Tommy tensed slightly at the mention of the traitor. “About Eret… why did he betray us?”

“He… was always more weary, I think. Wilbur hadn’t known him long enough to be able to manipulate him so easily, unlike you, Tubbo and Fundy. He saw through his lies from pretty early on. Eret came to us before we came to him,” explained Dream, turning slightly towards Tommy. “I know you saw it as betrayal, but… I think he was just trying to do the right thing. Stop it before it got too far. Before something like  _ this _ happened.”

“But what about the final control room? Why did he have to do that?”

“To get to Wilbur.”

“It made everything  _ worse _ . It made Wilbur paranoid. It got him to do  _ this _ to me!” Tommy explained, pointing to the scars across his cheeks.

Dream sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know. We… we were riding the thrill of having that advantage and didn’t pay attention to the possible consequences. That was my fault, really. I should have known. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tommy assured flatly.

It wasn’t okay. 

Eret’s betrayal had gotten them all on the path they were on now. Wilbur thought everyone was plotting against him after that. He thought Fundy, his own son, would run away. He thought the same about Tommy, his own little brother. Tommy supposed Wilbur was right, considering where Tommy was now.

“Come on,” Dream ushered, bouncing up onto his feet and grabbing the nearest tree branch so that he could swing back down.

Tommy had always been jealous of Dream’s ability to move so easily. The man held the record Speedrun time, and was absolutely legendary at Manhunt and any Parkour course set out. He was bouncy and balanced and graceful, yet sporadic and unpredictable at the same time.

It was enviable.

Tommy slid down the tree, much slower than Dream had done, and brushed off his sweatpants when he reached the bottom. The green-clad man was waiting for him by the base of the tree, tilting his mask towards the cabin.

The pair walked back to the house in silence, Dream holding the wooden door open for him when they reached it. As they entered, Tommy was hit with a sudden chorus of voices and the smell of burning eggs.

Sapnap, George and Eret were all in the kitchen, trying to blow the smoke towards a window they had opened. George was yelling something indecipherable while Eret tried cleaning the raw eggs off his apron which read  _ “I like my men how I like my women” _ in pink, blue and purple.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Dream spoke up finally, cutting through the overlapping shouts of panic.

Three heads snapped towards the pair who had just walked through the door, George’s eyes blowing wide as they flickered to Tommy.

“You’re still here!” he exclaimed, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Tommy didn’t know what to think about the joy that seemed to light the trio up at the idea of him still being there. It made him feel… warm. Tommy wasn’t used to being warm.

“Erm… yeah,” he mumbled. “I just… went to watch the sunrise,” he explained.

“Oh,” George nodded. “We thought you’d left.”

“Where would I have gone?” asked Tommy.

Sapnap shuffled on his feet. “Well considering your self-destructive behaviour yesterday, we wouldn’t be too surprised if you’d gone back to WIlbur.”

Tommy frowned, his blonde eyebrows furrowing slightly. He wasn’t self-destructive. He  _ wasn’t _ . “Oh, uh… well, unfortunately for you, I’m still here.”

“Unfortunately?” Eret asked in surprise. “Dude, we’re so glad you stayed.” The man in question glanced around the destroyed kitchen with a wince. “You’re probably really hungry, um… sorry for being shitty cooks.”

Despite the knot in his gut, Tommy pulled on a small smile. “That’s alright, I can cook something up, if you want.”

A loud laugh came from behind him, and he turned to see Dream laughing. “Oh god, I don’t wanna know what TommyInnit in a kitchen is like. You’d probably burn the house down.”

Tommy laughed but shook his head in disagreement. “No, I’m actually pretty good. I was alone as a kid for ages before Phil found me, so I’ve picked up a few things on the way.”

The other four looked confused. 

“Phil found you? You’re not biologically his son?” George asked as he wiped down the kitchen counter.

Tommy shook his head, walking over to the kitchen to check what was in the kitchen. “Nah, all three of us are adopted. Techno was found somewhere in the Nether, I don’t know, nobody really talks about it. Despite being born on the same day, Wil and Techno aren’t actually blood related. Wilbur was… village hopping, I think, busking to earn some money. And then Phil stumbled across him and decided to just adopt him,” he laughed.

There wasn’t much in the pantry or kitchen, but luckily pancakes didn’t need many ingredients. At least some of the eggs had been saved from Sapnap, George and Eret’s destruction.

“And then Phil found me when he fell into one of my traps I had set to catch food. I was too young to hunt animals with a sword, so I had these traps set and Phil fell into one. And then he realised that a six-year-old probably shouldn’t be running around in the woods alone, catching his own dinner. So yeah, then I was adopted.”

“You were  _ six _ ?” Dream asked incredulously, hopping up so that he could sit on the kitchen island bench. “Where were your parents?”

Tommy’s shoulders suddenly drooped slightly, hand hesitating from where it was measuring out the flour. 

“Uh… they weren’t exactly good people. At least, I don’t think they were. I don’t remember,” he explained quietly, careful to not turn to the adults in the room.

He didn’t want their pity. He was sure pretty much everyone on this server had some what of a fucked up past, with some never having had a home before and others running away from their history.

Eret hummed from somewhere to his left. “Shitty parents, amiright?”

Tommy looked at him to a moment, staring into those stupid sunglasses, before turning away again. “Well, I don’t remember much. I know they were pretty neglectful, to the point where they left me behind this one time. Then… I was on my own. I don’t think I was good enough for them, or maybe I was too much.”

“My parents kicked me out when I told them I was bi,” Eret shrugged. “It was the final straw for them I think, just another thing that made me  _ wrong _ .”

Tommy had never known that, and somehow it made him feel a bit better. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s parents thought he was too much to handle. Not worth it.

“You all know I’m a blaze hybrid,” Sapnap added. “Well, my mum was the blaze and she kind of… left us. Dad put out the anger on me and he thought the best way to do that was lock me in a freezer every once and a while. The cold made me weak and sick, since blazes find strength in heat. My pyrokinesis only kicked in when I joined this server,” he continued, a small flame lifting in his palm when he opened his hand, “because I had been subconsciously suppressing it the whole time. So, yeah, shitty parents.”

Tommy then looked to George next, who seemed like the next in line. The blue clad man looked around, adjusting his goggled on his head. “Oh, uh…” he chuckled. “No, I just outgrew home. My parents were fine. Not the best, but they took care of me.” He then hesitantly turned to Dream. “Dream?”

The blonde sat still for a moment before shaking his head with a laugh. “Yeah, no. You’re not getting that story out of me. That’s too depressing. But yeah, shitty parents.”

Dream pushed himself off the counter, dusting off his black cargo pants. “Call out to me when you’re finished with breakfast.”

Tommy frowned as the Speedrunner exited the house again, going off into the forest. For some reason, he was intrigued by Dream. Before, he hadn’t cared about him at all. It was just fight Dream, shout at Dream, try not to get killed by Dream. But now, there was an odd sense of calm that had settled over, hiding this mysterious darkness that Tommy assumed was the truth about Dream.

He really wanted to know who the man behind that mask was.


End file.
